Being Harry Pearce
by r4ven3
Summary: This short story is told in 3 chapters. Set late in S.8, I have written this story to stand instead of the drink-they-never-got-to-have. It also might serve to lead into Harry's strange proposal early in S.9. Truthfully, it emerged from an idea which wouldn't go away. I have written all but the opening paragraph of Chapter 1 during the course of one day.
1. Chapter 1

Each time she looked up from her monitor Harry appeared distracted, out of sorts. He was not his usual focused self and this worried her. Earlier that day - 10.12 am to be precise - he had received a phone call, his forehead creased with worry, and then he had suddenly left his office without telling anyone where he was going. He had stayed away for over 2 hours, and when he returned he'd shut himself in his office with the blinds closed. Only Ros had knocked on his office door and been granted entry. Ruth pulled her attention back to the work in front of her – her research into possible Nightingale activity amongst British subjects living in France, Spain, Belgium and Denmark. She had enough to keep her occupied for the rest of the week. She couldn't be worrying about Harry. After all, he was not hers to worry about. Except that …... several months had passed since George's terrible death, and she and Harry had become closer ….. much closer …... and Ruth didn't know what that meant in real terms. Were they close enough for her to be knocking on his door and asking him was there anything she can do? Ruth didn't have any answers, so she put her head down and worked.

It was after 4 pm when Ruth felt a presence beside her desk. "I think Harry might need a word."

Ruth looked up into the cool countenance of Ros Myers. "With me?"

"I think that's how this works, Ruth. I tell you, and you respond by saying: `Yes, Ros. Right away, Ros'."

Ruth dropped her gaze to her monitor, hoping that an equally sarcastic response would find its way into her head, but nothing worthy to match the verbiage of Ros Myers appeared. No doubt the very best rejoinder would emerge as she was about to fall asleep later that night, much too late for it to be useful. She continued to ignore Ros, who let out a sigh of exasperation, turned and left, mumbling something about `babysitting'. When Ros was no longer within earshot, Ruth looked up to see Harry's office blinds still closed. Before she had a chance to talk herself out of it, Ruth rose from her chair, and grabbing a folder and a pen as props, she headed to Harry's office door. Out of deference to his mood she knocked once, and then entered.

The light inside the office was low, and Harry sat in his office chair, his forehead resting on one hand. Ruth moved closer, uttering his name. He looked wrecked, like someone had died.

"Harry?" Ruth said quietly, sinking silently into the chair facing his desk. "Is there anything I can do?"

Ruth noticed Harry watching her as she crossed the floor and sat, placing her folder and pen on the corner of the desk. He then sat up straight and watched her wordlessly, as though considering how he should begin.

"How close are we, Ruth? Would you consider us to be ….. friends?"

"I'd like to think so. For me anyway, I have ….. moved on from what happened when ….."

"When you returned from Cyprus?"

Ruth nodded. The word `Cyprus' still stirred confused and painful feelings from within her, feelings which she still had trouble articulating, so she had buried them as deeply as she could. Ruth noticed how closely Harry was watching her, like he was deciding how much he could tell her. Eventually he sat up straight, folded his hands on the desk in front of him, and leaned towards her, his expression still grim.

"This morning I received a phone call from a lawyer," Harry began. "She told me she was representing a woman by the name of …..." And here, Harry looked down at a sheet of A4 paper on his desk, on which Ruth could see a lot of writing, scribbled in Harry's own hand. Harry squinted as he tried to make out the name scrawled at the top of the page. "The client's name is Victoria Rowe, and she claims I'm the father of her two-year-old daughter."

Ruth felt like she'd been slapped. She sat back in her chair, staring at Harry. Was he serious? Was this really happening? "Are you?" she asked quietly.

"Of course not," he said, quite curtly. "I've never heard of the woman, and if my maths serves me correctly, at the time this child was conceived you and I were …... rather close. The child would have been conceived in the summer of 2006."

"When I had to go into exile."

"Exactly. I wasn't ….. interested in ….. that sort of thing with anyone other than ….."

"Me?"

"Yes ..." Harry breathed the word, and it came from him like a sigh. Ruth felt her skin tingle, and her stomach contract.

"So …... what does this woman want? Why is she targeting you?"

Harry sat back, visibly more relaxed. "She says that the father of her child told her his name was Harry Pearce, and that he had an important job at MI5."

"You'd never anounce yourself in that way."

"I know. This woman has …. recently been demoted in her job, and is short of funds. She's looking for money ... in the form of child support."

Ruth swallowed, realising that someone must have set up Harry …... pretended to be him. "So ….. you do a paternity test. Problem solved."

"That's what I told the lawyer. I also told her that I'd never heard of the woman, and that at the time I was not ….. visiting bars, which is where this woman met the man claiming to be me. Of course, she had to go back to the client, and I'm waiting on her reply. The lawyer is trying to stop her client from going to the press with her story."

"Oh, God. Harry, that's awful."

Ruth looked down to see her hands grasping at the material of her skirt, pulling it into a bunch on her lap. The situation was potentially explosive, and Harry's reputation could be at risk. She was not about to allow the worst to happen. "Right," Ruth began. "You have to have that paternity test. That's the first thing. Have you contacted your lawyer?"

"Yes. He told me the same thing. Next, I should try to find out who it was impersonating me, because he's the one who should be paying child support."

"I agree. Was there anything else ….. anything which could point to when the child was conceived? You might require an alibi, although the paternity test will get you off the hook …... that is, if you didn't have a small indiscretion back then."

Harry had been speed reading his notes, his forefinger on the words, when he looked up, his face showing shock ….. and anger. "_Ruth_ …... do you honestly think that back when we had dinner together, and during the time leading up to you having to leave …... do you think I would have done something like sleep with a random stranger? I thought you knew me better than that."

"I know. I'm sorry. I believe you. I suppose I was just testing you. Perhaps if you ring your lawyer, and find out the date when this child was conceived. That might provide a starting point." Ruth stood up, preparing to leave.

"You're leaving?"

For the first time Ruth noticed how lost Harry looked. To her, the situation was totally black and white, and the paternity test would prove it so. Perhaps this was just the very thing to get under Harry's skin. Perhaps this accusation of paternal responsibility had been just enough to rattle his cage.

"For now. If you can get a probable date of conception, and a firm description of the man she slept with, then you might not have to suffer the indignity of a paternity test."

Harry nodded, his eyes sad. He stood and followed Ruth to the door. The office blinds were still closed, so that they were cocooned from the rest of the Grid. Ruth felt Harry's hand on the small of her back, so that when she turned to face him his arm was around her, and they were standing quite close. As they both breathed in Ruth's breasts touch Harry's stomach. She found the intimacy of the moment exciting … inviting. There had been a time – before she had had to go into exile – when she would have been through the door in a flash, afraid of her response to his proximity. Their bodies were like magnets, each to the other, and this still left her breathless. After all this time, and their time apart, any closeness with Harry could still set her heart racing and her skin on fire. The small of her back, where his hand still rested, felt like it was about to ignite. She looked up at him to see his pupils dilated, his breathing as heavy as her own.

"Ruth ..." was all he said before he dropped his hand from her waist and pulled away. The moment was over, but Ruth could feel that this was a beginning, rather than an ending.

"You have things to do, Harry. I'll talk to you once you know more. If you need me to do anything …... anything at all ….. you just have to ask."

Harry nodded mutely, his eyes still smouldering into her own.

"And open the blinds. It's not healthy for you to be moping, and we all need to see you. We need to know you're still ….."

"Saving the world?"

"Something like that, yes."

"I couldn't even save you, Ruth, and I'm doing a rotten job of saving myself."

"Then do something to change that." Ruth was about to turn to leave when she again looked up into his eyes. "Let me know how it goes, won't you. It doesn't matter how late. Let me know. I need to know."

He nodded, and Ruth was sure she could see a smile forming around his eyes. She then turned away from him, sliding the door before she disappeared from sight.

Harry sighed heavily, watching the doorway, but she didn't reappear. He headed back to his desk to make a few phone calls.

* * *

When Ruth reached her desk she decided that Nightingale could wait. She gave herself the task of finding the person who may have posed as Harry back in the summer of 2006. She trawled through MI5 and MI6 operatives who were in London during July and August of 2006, but there were no possibilities among them. She was searching through the applications to MI5 in the 12 months from July 2005 to July 2006, and had found two possible suspects, when her mobile phone rang. Harry's name was on the display, and she answered it quickly, looking up to see that his office was empty and the lights had been turned off. The time by the display on her monitor was just after 7 pm.

"Ruth," Harry said. "I'm with my lawyer. He has discovered something in the affadavit by Victoria Rowe. She said that the conception occurred on her 44th birthday, which was July 14th, 2006. She was lonely, and went to a bar to `pull' – her own words."

"And?"

"Ruth ….. July 14th 2006 was the night of our one and only dinner date."

"How? How did you know that?"

"I kept a diary. I wrote about the dinner we shared."

"Can I …... can I read what you wrote?"

"Of course not. It's ….. I say things in it which I can't share with others …... not even with you. The point is, you can provide me with an alibi. Ms Rowe says in her affadavit that she met Harry Pearce at _Ronson's_ at a little before 9 pm, which was -"

"Around the time you were waxing lyrical about the Grand Tour."

"Yes, it was. Ruth …."

"Yes?"

"Will you declare that you were with me that night?"

"Of course I will, and you won't have to have a paternity test."

"No. I won't."

There was a long moment of silence, but this time it was a silence in which their combined relief was palpable. It was Ruth who broke the silence.

"I've been doing some digging, Harry. Do you remember the names John Carstairs and Brian Strachan?"

"In relation to what, Ruth?"

Ruth breathed in slowly, her mind forming a strategy. She really wanted to see Harry. Even though in her private moments she still grieved George's death, she was ready to move on. She was ready to take some risks, and the person with whom she wanted to take those risks was on the other end of the phone.

"Harry," she began, "what if we meet somewhere? It might be easier to …... talk if we're ….. face to face, but first I have to print off the details of these two men. You need to read about them."


	2. Chapter 2

Harry had hesitated, and for a very short moment in time Ruth had panicked, wondering had she spoken out of turn. Harry had eventually suggested they meet at a restaurant near Thames House, and this time Ruth had hesitated.

"I'm not up to a dinner – not yet – but I hope to be soon. Couldn't we just meet at my place, and order in dinner? We can kick off our shoes, and you can take off your tie and your jacket -"

"Steady on, Ruth. You're giving me ideas."

Ruth had heard the smile in his voice, and it was then she knew they'd be alright. They were ready for this ….. but only just.

They were sitting either side of Ruth's kitchen table – shoeless, tieless, jacketless – devouring the Indian meal Harry had picked up on his way there, and slowly sipping the chilled white wine Ruth had in her refrigerator – for `emergencies'. This was not exactly an emergency, but it was important …. to both of them.

"John Carstairs applied to MI5 three times from early in 2004. I interviewed him each time, and yes, he was balding and around my height, but that is where the similarity ended. By the end of his last interview in ….. when was it?"

"March 2006."

"Yes, I remember. He was belligerent and rather rude to me personally. I told him to never apply again."

"He was unsuitable?"

"In every way there was. He was interested in ridding the UK of Muslims, so you can imagine how unsuitable he was. I put his name on a `watch' list, but after 3 months he'd done nothing out of the ordinary, so I had his name removed. I hadn't expected him to be posing as me when he picked up women at bars."

"So you're off the hook?"

Harry nodded. "I'll ring my lawyer first thing in the morning. I hope John Carstairs has a well paid job. Ms Rowe is after back payments for child support to the time the child was born in April 2007."

"Harry …... can I ask you something?" When he nodded slowly, Ruth could see the fear in his expression. He knew what she was about to ask him, but she'd ask it anyway. "When you used to …. pick up women in bars ….. were you looking to be loved, or were you just after sex?"

Harry's eyes dropped to his glass, where he was absently stroking his fingers along the length of the stem. "I was much younger then, Ruth, and I don't think I even knew what love was. It's only since I've known …..." His gaze darted upwards to meet hers before he again dropped his eyes to his wine glass. "When I ….. resorted to such activities I was only ever after sex. It's what's expected in such situations. Most of the women I picked up assumed I was married."

"And were you?"

"During the last years of my marriage, yes. I know now that …... I was emotionally disconnected from not only my marriage, but from …... everyone in my life." It was then that he looked up and his eyes held Ruth's, so that even had she wanted to she could not look away. "It is you who has taught me to feel, Ruth. It's still uncomfortable for me to …... feel anything at all. It's much easier to operate from a place of numbness. It was when I reconnected with my daughter that I began to once again feel …... something other than pain. With you, I have been able to admit to myself that I am still capable of feeling something more ….. positive and …. life affirming."

Ruth knew that it was still too soon for either of them to be mentioning the word love. They both knew what he was saying. Their conversations were almost always in a code only the two of them were able to interpret.

"Harry," she said, her eyes still held by his, "would you like to stay the night? I'm not talking about sex. Not yet, anyway, although I know we might ….. be ready for that …... some time soon. I thought it might be nice to ….. you know, spend some private time in one another's company. I'd rather like it were we to sleep in the same bed, but if you think that's -"

"I think that's a wonderful idea, Ruth. I'd love nothing more. I need you to know that."

"But you won't?"

"I have a lot on tomorrow, and I have to begin early, and if I ….. stay here …. with you, I'll not want to leave your bed in the morning, and -"

"It's alright, Harry, Perhaps another time."

The spell was suddenly broken, as Ruth was afraid it would be. She had spoken too soon and out of turn. She knew Harry to be a man who preferred being the one in charge. She had taken that away from him, and his response has been to withdraw from her. Ruth looked down, busily scooping her rice and lamb into the middle of her plate.

"Ruth …... Ruth ..." When she looked up once more she saw the pain in his eyes. "It's not that I don't want to stay, because I do. You have no idea how much. And I don't care that you're not interested in sex with me -"

"I didn't say that. I said I'm not asking you to stay overnight for sex. It's too soon. We have to get to know one another again, Harry. I don't want to be jumping right to sex before we even know who the other is. We might not like what we find out about each other."

"I find that hard to believe. We work together, Ruth. We've seen one another at our very best as well as our very worst." Harry dropped his eyes before he continued, his voice softer, gentler. "And one thing I can promise you is that you will enjoy sex with me. That is one thing I know for sure."

This was Brand New Territory for them, and Ruth didn't know where to look. Her body felt flushed and warm, and between her legs she was already very warm and wet. If he could manage that with a few words, then who knew what his lips, fingers, tongue – and other parts of him – were capable of doing.

"I'm sorry. I've embarrassed you."

"No, Harry, you haven't. I'm surprised. That was …. an unexpected declaration."

"So you'll not run upstairs to bed if I tell you what Victoria Rowe told her lawyer about the father of her child."

Ruth shook her head, knowing that what Harry was about to tell her had nothing at all to do with the man's height and hair colour.

"Apparently, the man who fathered Ms Rowe's child had a …... of average size, and it had a small mole the shape of an uneven heart on the underside."

"You're not talking about his feet, are you?"

Harry shook his head and smiled. "And I apologise in advance for what I'm about to say, Ruth. The man who fathered her child could not be me because I am not of `average size', and mine doesn't sport a mole."

Ruth sighed rather heavily. That wasn't so bad at all, but it still begged the question. "So I'm assuming yours is not on the smaller side of average."

"No ….. it's not. Quite the opposite, in fact."

Ruth was genuinely unable to speak. The words `prove it' were whirling around inside her head, begging her to say them.

"And on that note, I think I should take my leave," Harry added, quickly rising from his chair, gathering their used plates and utensils, and carrying them to the sink.

"Leave them," Ruth said, standing close behind him, longing to touch him, needing to feel his skin under her fingers.

Suddenly Harry turned to face her, just as she had her hand raised to place against the skin of his neck. Her fingers found his cheek instead, and she cupped his jaw in her hand. It was when Harry turned his head to place his lips against her palm that Ruth almost lost her resolve. She wanted him in her bed. Tonight. And if he wanted sex, then so did she.

Harry grasped her hand and pulled her closer, so that they could each feel the body of the other against them. His kiss was very tender ….. and careful. There was a hint of tongues, but he withdrew from inside her mouth just before he withdrew from the kiss.

"We'll do this again soon, Ruth. Very soon."

She nodded. He held her hand as they walked together to the front door. His goodnight kiss was chaste and quick, and within seconds he had gone. Ruth leant her back against the door and allowed the pent-up breath to leave her body. It was almost too much to take in. Only that morning they'd barely been on speaking terms.

Ruth heard the car start, but when she ran water into the sink it drowned out the sounds from outside her flat. She washed and dried their dishes, corked the bottle of wine which they hadn't finished, and then stuffed the takeaway containers into the bin. She was upstairs, and having already visited the bathroom, she was in her bedroom preparing for bed when her phone rang. It was already after 10.30 pm, so that could only be one person.

"Ruth," he said in his honeyed voice, "I've changed my mind. I'm still sitting outside in my car. All I know is that I don't want to leave you tonight. I'll sleep on the sofa if that's what you want."

"It's not what I want, Harry, and you know it. I said I'd like you to share my bed, and I meant it, and as much as I'd like there to be sex, I don't think it's wise ….. at least, not yet."

Wearing slippers and a bathrobe thrown over her pyjama bottoms and t-shirt, she let him through the front door. They did not touch. There was too much riding on this evening and night for them to mess it up by giving in to the drives of their bodies. There was still a part of Ruth which thought this to be a Very Bad Idea, but there was a larger – and braver – part of her which wanted this. She and Harry needed to begin again somewhere, and preferably soon, before it was too late.

Ruth led him upstairs, where she showed him to the bathroom, and put out a spare toothbrush and a fresh towel for him to use. Leaving her bedroom door wide open and the bedside lamp on, Ruth climbed into bed on the side opposite the door. She usually slept right in the middle of her bed, and could happily sleep on either side if needed. Harry appeared at the doorway, still wearing his trousers and an undershirt. In his hands he carried his shoes, socks and shirt. The rest of his clothes were in his car.

"Is it alright with you if I take off my trousers?" he asked, gazing at her closely for any sign she was about to change her mind.

"Please do," Ruth replied. She'd covered herself with the duvet, since under her t-shirt she was naked, and she didn't wish to place temptation in Harry's way.

Harry turned off the bedside light before he removed his trousers. He must have been thinking similar thoughts to Ruth. There was the slightest glow of a streetlight through the curtains, and so Ruth was able to see that yes, Harry was not lying about his size. His trunks were pale grey in colour, and so little was left to the imagination. She thought about saying something, but decided against it. He shuffled under the covers, and moved closer to her, but not so close that they touched.

"You were watching me," he said quietly, once he was comfortable.

"Mmm. I was just checking that you were not bragging."

"And?"

"It seems you were telling the truth."

Harry's chuckle had the mattress moving a little underneath them. Ruth turned her head to find him watching her.

"This is nice," he said, and he reached out his hand under the mattress to seek her hand. "I'd really like to kiss you, but I don't wish to -"

"It's alright, Harry," she said, squeezing his hand between her fingers. "You kissed me goodnight when you left."

"If we wake early enough in the morning we might have time for some kissing."

"That would be ….. rather nice."

"It would. Goodnight, Ruth."

"Goodnight, Harry."

And they slept.


	3. Chapter 3

_**A/N:Many thanks to readers and especially to those who have reviewed this story. This is the final chapter.  
**_

_**This chapter is ridiculously M-rated. Also rather OOC for them both (as well as OTT), and for the time in the story – late S.8 – but I haven't written anything M for a while, and I had far too much fun writing this to tone it down, so …... here `tis, more humourous than serious. (I blame the heat ... and the paint fumes)  
**_

* * *

It was still dark when Ruth awoke. At first she didn't know where she was, with the warmth of another body next to her, the sound of steady breathing from that body, her fingers curled around a firm erection …... _Jesus_! Ruth quickly turned her head before she moved her hand. And yes, the body and the breathing, as well as the erection all belonged to Harry.

"Put your hand back there immediately," he said gruffly.

"But …... we said -"

"I know what we said, Ruth. That was before your heat-seeking fingers found my cock." As he spoke Harry turned on his side and moved a little closer to her. He also grasped her hand under the covers. "I was really enjoying that, Ruth."

"I ….. suppose so was I, except ….. I was asleep at the time."

"Then you must have been stroking me in your sleep."

"_What_?"

"I awoke when I heard you moan my name. I stayed still because I was hoping that …... something would happen, and it did. You reached out and touched my thigh …... which was arousing in itself, so that by the time your hand moved upwards and anchored itself to my penis, I was already beginning to grow. Then you massaged me – very slowly. It was …. amazing. I was about to wake you when you woke up. I needed you to wake up before I came."

Ruth had no idea how to respond to that. She squeaked an `I'm sorry', which had Harry lifting himself up onto one elbow so that he could see her more clearly.

"That is not the answer I was hoping for, Ruth. I don't want you to be sorry. I need you to want me. Even if it's only half as much as I want you right now, that will be enough. Alternatively, I can take a cold shower and go home."

What to do? The ball was well and truly in her court, and Harry's eyes – so dark in the early morning twilight – were closely watching her, and she was sure he could read her mind as she mulled over the pros and cons of the situation. Did she want this? Of course she did. Did she think they should wait? Yes. But does she want to wait? Not now, not now that she's …... touched him.

In answer to his query Ruth reached up with her hand and pulled his face closer to her. He took the hint and very carefully placed his lips on hers. It was clear to Ruth by his hesistance that he was expecting her to change her mind at any moment. She was not about to, especially when he kissed her like that ….. slowly, deeply, his tongue seeking hers and then retreating. She wanted more of him, and so she shuffled closer to him, reaching out under the duvet to touch him. As Harry kissed her thoroughly, one of Ruth's hands sought his skin where his undershirt had ridden up and exposed his belly. His skin was soft, with only very fine hairs down his middle. She moved her fingers from side to side across his skin, and then she very slowly ventured towards the vastness of his chest where she ran her fingertips slowly over him, learning his shape and feel. With her other hand she reached lower, where her fingers found the skin of his outer thigh. Harry deepened the kiss while her fingers found their way to his inner thigh. Once she caressed the skin there, he moaned into her mouth. By this time his erection was pressing against her inner thigh, and so she quite unconsciously moved her body so that it nestled against her tender heat. This time it was she who moaned into the kiss.

It was at this moment that Ruth became aware that this was not just a heavy snog. They were engaging in foreplay, and within moments they would be making love …... the very thing she suggested they should wait a while to do. At that moment she didn't care. She wanted to feel Harry's cock against her bare skin, and then inside her. She wanted to open her legs to him and allow him to fill her. Yes, he was on the larger side of average, but not scarily so. She quickly moved her fingers from his inner thigh to the substantial bulge inside his underwear. This time she slid her hand inside his trunks, grasped him in her hand and began a slow and steady rhythm along the length of him. He was firm and hot beneath her fingers. Suddenly Harry pulled away from her, his eyes darkly intense, as he reached down and very gently took her hand from him. "It's your turn now," was all he said.

And it was. He was skilled alright. He knew every place on her body where the gentlest of touches invoked a shiver or a flush. Without her even knowing about it, Harry removed first her t-shirt, and then her pyjama pants. She had already lifted his undershirt over his head, and thrown it on the floor beside the bed. She felt him between her legs, his tongue flicking across her clitoris as he buried his fingers inside her. She came loudly and for a long time, and all the while Harry's face was still between her legs, his tongue busily working to bring her to the heights of ecstacy, over and over.

Ruth lost all sense of time. By the time Harry hovered over her, checking that she was happy for him to push himself inside her, it could have been the middle of the afternoon for all she knew. She widened her legs to make space for him to lie between them, and then once he was (rather gloriously) inside her, she wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him into her as deeply as he would go. When they made love Ruth was sure she could hear music playing. Harry lifted his head to watch her as he moved against her, pushing into her deeply. He held back his own orgasm until she rocked underneath him once more, her inner muscles rippling against the flesh inside her. When he came he groaned loudly, and buried his face against her neck.

Ruth was sure she'd been unconscious for at least an hour, but she may have been dozing for only a minute or two. When she was able to open her eyes she looked into Harry's face. He was lying beside her, his arm loosely around her shoulders. He smiled into her eyes, and then reached across to kiss her – a gentle, chaste kiss – and she could taste her own juices on his mouth.

"I'd like to be able to say I'm sorry I didn't have the self control to stop that happening, but I'd be lying," he said, his voice low and husky with emotion. "I'm glad we did that, and I'm glad we didn't wait any longer. Who's to know what might happen to one or both of us? We can't turn back the clock now, Ruth. Now I've tasted you, I'm not about to give you up."

"I don't want to give you up, either. I just wish we'd -"

Harry then reached out with his finger to silence her. "No regrets, Ruth. This is who we are. We fit together ... this way, right now …. and it's wonderful."

She nodded, smiling, and he removed his finger. "I just have one request, Harry." She noted the concern on his face. He must have thought she was about to run from him. "All I ask is that we keep this – _us_ – from those on the Grid. I don't want them knowing … not yet. I rather like the idea of this ….. what we have together ….. being something secret, something only we know about."

Harry nodded and kissed her again. This time the kiss was bordering on the passionate, as their mouths opened, and again they searched inside the other's mouth with their tongues. "Harry," Ruth said once they drew apart, "you're not wanting to go again, surely. I'm exhausted, and you're -"

"- incapable of another erection for at least 24 hours, Ruth. Although I just might be ready to go again by lunchtime."

"In your dreams." Ruth had turned to face him, watching his face carefully for any sign that he was not as invested in this as she. She could find no sign of doubt, either inside herself or in his face. "Is this …... are we? What are we, Harry?"

Before he replied, Harry lifted himself up so that he leaned against the head of the bed. "We're lovers, Ruth, and this is important to me, as I imagine it is to you. We're also – I hope – exclusive to one another, meaning that we have a commitment to ….. to each other." Ruth nodded. "I'm hoping that ….. one day … not too far into the future …."

"We can talk about the future another time. I'm quite liking where we are now."

Harry nodded, and then reached down to kiss her again, this time gently and with tenderness. He then turned to grab his phone, and when he woke it up he grimaced. "I'm really sorry, but I have to go soon, Ruth. I need to contact my lawyer, and I have a breakfast meeting with one of the section chiefs at Six."

"Which one?"

"Alastair Jones." Ruth wrinkled her nose in distaste. "My thoughts exactly," he added, before he settled himself beside her, their heads close together, his hand grasping hers underneath the duvet. "I _really_ don't want to leave you right now."

"I know you don't ... but you must. Duty calls ... as it always will."

* * *

Ruth arrived at work on time, and continued what she'd been doing just before she'd joined Harry in his office the previous afternoon. She was busy, eyes concentrating on her monitor when she heard her mobile phone's message tone. She woke her phone and scrolled to messages.

_"Victoria Rowe has been put in touch with the Other Harry Pearce, so all is right in my world. No-one apart from you and me need know about her and her child – a child who is thankfully not mine - and no-one other than you and me know the sound you make when you come. I love you xxx"_

Ruth felt her body warming all over. She looked up to see Harry sitting at his desk, a frown on his forehead as he pored over the reports she'd left on his desk over an hour earlier. She watched him, waiting for some acknowledgement from him. Around a half a minute later he lifted his head, winked at her, smiled, and then dropped his eyes back to the report, the frown reappearing.

All was right in Ruth's world as well.

_Fin_


End file.
